


Family Matters

by Maircat



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: A zoe centered fic because there arent enough of them, Gen, I'm feeling angsty so, SO SORRY, Sad, probably extremly ooc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-11-23 04:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11395215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maircat/pseuds/Maircat
Summary: Zoe watches her family move around her and hopes that nothing gets broken.





	1. Chapter 1

Every morning started out the same. Zoe would get out of bed before her alarm clock and get dressed as quickly as she could, she was hoping to grab something to eat and leave before anyone else woke up so she wouldn't have to deal with the inevitable shouting match that happened every day between the rest of the family. She grabbed her bag and headed downstairs only to find that her lovely mother was already wide awake and greeting her with a bright smile that was honestly obnoxious for such an unreasonable hour of the morning. She smiled at her and grabbed a piece of toast off of the plate that was extended to her. She sat down, feeling her mother's eyes on the back of her chair as she did so. She couldn’t leave now, she would just have to wait for the nightmare to be over. About ten minutes passed before Larry came down the stairs, his mouth was set in the same grim look he had on every morning and his eyes were glued to his phone. Zoe guessed that he was already answering work emails, she had always assumed that it was his only pleasure in the morning. A few more minutes passed as He got his coffee and toast, Cynthia beamed as she put a piece of toast on the plate in front of him, the smile never quite went over all of her features enough to seem like a genuine emotion to Zoe. There was silence in the kitchen for a moment, but like clockwork Larry looked down at his watch. He mumbled angrily to himself before violently getting up from the table and marching to the bottom of the stairs.  
“Connor, get down here.” He yelled to no response. He huffed in frustration.  
“CONNOR!” He screamed, Zoe winced at the noise she hadn’t been expecting it to be that loud. She heard some unintelligible yelling from the top of the stairs and in a few minutes connor was in the kitchen. His eyes were red and Zoe sighed, it was only six in the morning but her brother couldn’t even wait till he got to school to be stoned out of his mind. She waited for the eventual fight that would ensue over it.

…

She was sitting in the kitchen looking out of the glass doors into the pitch black that covered the backyard. At times like this, when everyone else was in bed she could almost imagine the big house being cozy, homely. She took a sip from the mug of tea she had made herself and tried to not think about the disaster that was her family. She heard footsteps behind her and quickly turned. She worried for a second it was Cynthia. If her mother saw her doing this she would put on a sad smile, the one where she would draw in her eyebrows with a look of concern, the top of her face never matching the bottom. If she saw her like this she would act fine, but Zoe knew that she took everything as a warning sign now, one that would eventually lead to Zoe becoming another Connor.  
A dark figure walked into the room and Zoe let out a breath, Connor didn’t care what she did. He opened the cabinet and grabbed a cup, he didn’t bother to walk over to the fridge instead opting to fill his water from the tap and chug it. She watched him carefully, not knowing if her moving could set him off. He turned to her and she quickly looked down into her mug trying to look busy.  
“What the fuck are you looking at?” He said. She bristled because she didn’t want to have a fight with him. Having a fight with Connor meant having a fight no one would win.  
“Nothing.” She said trying to sound dismissive. She looked back down at her cup hoping he would leave or get bored or, god forbid, just sit and quietly exist with her without having to kick and scream and cause a scene.  
“No, if you have something to say about me just fucking say it.” He stepped closer to the table and she quickly backed her chair away stepping into the center of the room and away from him. He looked at her for a second and took an angry breath out before walking in front of her. She almost fell as she tried to get out of his path. He walked towards the front entry way and grabbed his keys off of the hook by the door.  
“Where are you going?” She said, sounding much more like a scared child than she wanted to. He looked at her, she could see all of the rage in his eyes. They looked at each other in the silence of the house and just for a second he softened, for just a second he looked so sad that Zoe wanted to do nothing more than to take all of the weight that he had on his shoulders away. Then it was gone.  
“Fuck off.” He said, his knuckles white on the door handle as he wrenched it opened. He slammed the door in her face and she ran upstairs before her parents came down to see what had happened.

…

She could hear the screaming from upstairs. She wasn’t a hundred percent sure how it started, but she knew that it had been going on for more than an hour. Even with the music in her headphones on she could still hear the yelling. She turned her music up and went back to trying to focus on math problems. Each side of the square pyramid shown below measures...  
Smash! Something shatters downstairs. She takes her headphones off and puts them on the bed beside her. Her father screams something she can’t quite make out and there’s another smash. She can hear her mother talking quickly in a more calmed tone than the other two voices, obviously trying to not only spare whatever fine china Connor is breaking, but also get Larry to calm down enough to leave the room so she can attempt to make a peace with Connor that will undoubtedly be broken the next time Larry opens his mouth to speak. Part of her wants to go downstairs, if not to prepare herself for how they’re going to act for the rest of the the night, then to be a witness for the coroner's report that she knows will eventually come out of one of these fights.  
She hears her father yell something before slamming the glass door connected to the kitchen. She can just make out Cynthia’s hushed whispering over her brother angrily talking over her. She leaves her room and sits halfway down the stairs out of sight from the rest of the family. There she can make out the conversation without having to attempt to be involved in any way.  
“It wouldn’t be for a long time Connor, I just think that it might be good for you to-”  
“Good for me? None of this is good for me, all it does is make you feel better about doing nothing.”  
“No, honey that’s not true. All we want is to help you. Maybe this program isn’t the answer, but if it goes well then-”  
“Then you won’t have to deal with a fucked up kid. I get it.”  
“Honey you know I love you just the way you are,” Zoe scoffed at that one,” I just think that you need a little bit of help to be a better you.” Her mother almost sounds so hopeful that for a second she thinks even Connor believes the line because there is silence. All she can hear is his heavy breathing and she wonders if he’ll willingly go along with whatever plan she has for him this time.  
“I’m not going to humor you on another fucking thing that ends up making me feel worse than I did when I started.” He says, weirdly calm, as if he’s trying to control his anger for her sake. He stomps out of the room and starts climbing the stairs. He looks at her from where she’s perched leaning against the railing. She steals herself and waits for the blow or shove that’s coming her way. Instead he brushes by her with a ‘bitch’ under his breath, but nothing more.

…

She’d never ever tell him, but she hates seeing him like this. She can hear him banging the walls, his sobs echoing through the house and all she wants to do is try to help him, but some sort of fear and maybe a little bit of loathing stops her from moving from where she is sitting on her floor. She grits her teeth and wonders how her parents could have gone to bed hours ago without even checking on him. She doesn’t want to go to bed because she’s scared if she does he might stop all together and then she’d be all alone in a big house with no one but her parents who do nothing but walk on eggshells when she’s around. She knows they think they have to do everything they can to make her not turn out like him. Honor role student, jazz band, make her do extracurriculars, make her have a summer job, force her to hang out with the neighbors daughter even though Zoe has real friends because they’re so afraid that without her parents watchful eye she would just turn into him. Even though she has never been like him. She remembers when they were so similar, when her mother used to dress them up in matching outfits and they would play outside for hours. They would make up imaginary worlds and Connor was one of the only boys who was happy to spend time with his little sister. She remembers when they stopped being so similar to, when he started to pull away from her. She remembers the first time her father yelled at him the way he does now. He had always yelled, but it used to be at both of them. Then it started being aimed more and more at Connor.

She hears him bang on the wall closest to her bed and slide down it. The sobs are getting quieter as if he’s finally getting tired. She crawls over to the wall and leans against it as well. When they were little they’d whisper to each other through the walls, little jokes and secrets that only they knew. Those days are so long ago that they don’t even feel like real memories. She leans her head against the wall and she can hear his ragged breathing. She hopes that maybe her being there helps him though, even as she thinks it, she knows it’s a ridiculous theory. She hears his breathing even out and she thinks that after all of these hours of crying maybe he’s finally gone to sleep. She’s still afraid to go to bed because at least here, she can hear him. She knows that he’s still here and she isn’t alone with them yet. She eventually falls asleep curled up on the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning there is suicide and a inpatient facility in this chapter so be warned.

Two days after his first attempt she had come home to her mother moving around the house in a frenzy trying to find clothes and books that the hospital would let him keep while he was on mandatory watch. Zoe helped her look around Connor’s room trying to find things he might need while he was in there, pajama pants with no strings, jackets with no strings, books with nothing depressing. Cynthia seemed to have switched into panic mode and wasn’t speaking in full sentences anymore. At one point Zoe stood there as she just sat down in Connor’s room, looking at the stop where they had found him. She was so still in that moment that Zoe wasn’t really even sure if she was there. When the moment passed she got up and hurriedly got her car keys. She said that she needed to buy Connor new shoes because he didn’t have any shoes without laces.

He couldn’t have shoelaces. 

That thought repeated in Zoe’s head over and over. Her brother was locked in a room all alone and he couldn’t have shoelaces. Something about it made her feel more sad than she had ever felt for Connor. The sad just made her get more upset at herself, if he didn’t care for her why couldn’t she stop caring for him? Why was it that when she had convinced herself that she was done caring, done feeling sad for someone that hadn’t done anything to help her in years, she realized he was right back where she started?  
The whole family visited him the next day, well not the whole family. Her father had decided that he wasn’t going to humor his son with a visit from him, he thought it would only make Connor’s stay longer than it legally had to be. Cynthia sat in front of him the bag of carefully curated items beside her. She held his hands in hers and for once, he let her. She asked rapid fire questions about how he was being treated and when he thought he’d be out. Zoe watched him with a glare. She had decided that she was mad at him, for doing this to her mother, for doing this to her. It was a selfish decision that weakened the moment she actually saw Connor in here, but she had decided to keep her resolve and stay mad at him.   
He looked over at her. He looked so tired, his arms were bandaged up and his hair was up in a tie, she hadn’t seen his face clearly in months. Only seeing him when he would push past her to get out the door in the mornings. He smiled at her. Kinda a half dead smile, like he didn’t really know how to do it anymore. He must have been drugged out of his mind. He wouldn’t have done any of this if he hadn’t been.   
Cynthia had stopped talking and had gone across the room to look at the hospitals selection of boardgames. Connor leaned over to her and whispered.  
“How bad was she today?” Zoe chuckled, of course Connor could be stuck in a hospital for trying to kill himself and he could still harp on his mother.  
“Not the worst, she canceled a dinner party for you so feel honored.” Connor raised his eyebrows and brought his hand to his heart feigning surprise.  
“Well I must have been very important to get that kind of treatment.” He usually wouldn’t do this with her, he wasn’t himself and that’s why he was being kind. She had to remember that this wasn’t Connor, Connor wasn’t kind. While she had this Connor though, there was no way in hell she would pass up the opportunity.  
“Yes, I hear next they won’t do a family Christmas card.” That made him laugh out loud, it shocked her for a second. It wasn’t a noise that she had heard in a long time. She looked over to where her mother was standing clutching a connect four box, beaming from ear to ear. It was a real smile this time, not shielding whatever emotion she actually had. She thought she was getting her son back. Zoe knew better than to hope for that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings : abusive behavior

They took away his door once he came back from the hospital, but it was obvious that that was the extent of her father’s involvement with the process. Once he had raided Connor’s room and taken anything he deemed a threat away. What her father had deemed ‘a threat’ had apparently been everything in Connor’s room. It was now completely bare, the posters had been taken off the walls, the books off the shelves, and his dresser had been moved and his clothes laid in piles on his floor.After that, he all but checked out of his recovery process. Her mother on the other hand hovered over him until she too got tired and enlisted Zoe as a babysitter. She wasn’t particularly fond of the task because the moment Connor got back from the hospital he turned back into his old self. She guessed without the deprivation and the copious drugs, he still found her intolerable. He was to tired to do anything, he had gotten walking pneumonia from his hospital stay, the doctors told her parents that it was common. 

Cynthia had worked herself to the bone taking care of him, but eventually she had to sleep and Zoe couldn’t say no when she looked so exhausted. He had about three blankets around him. Zoe had made him a cup of tea about an hour ago, but he hadn’t touched it. She sat in the corner farthest away from the bed in the chair she had pulled from the desk in her room. She had her earbuds in and was currently trying to read the short story she had gotten in english. It was fitting honestly, a story about a messed up disease that made people want to rip out their own hearts. She thought Connor might like it, he had always like to read. He used to anyway, she wasn’t sure if he had read any books in the past few years.  
A piece of paper hit her in the face. She looked up at where Connor was propped in his bed. He looked miserable and a little bit angry.  
“What?” She asked heatedly. He pointed to his throat, she knew that he couldn’t speak because of all the coughing, and then the note looking annoyed that she didn’t read it first. She rolled her eyes and picked it up. All the piece of paper said was ‘BORED’ in scrawled handwriting. She looked up again with a questioning look and he angrily pointed to the now bare bookshelf.  
“What am I supposed to do about it?” He shrugged and she was getting more annoyed now, if he was going to bother her he could at least have a suggestion. She sighed and looked down at the story on her lap. She turned from the page she was on to the beginning of the story. She looked up at him again and he nodded leaning a bit forward as if he was actually excited for her to read.  
“When I was fifteen and trying to show my independence by getting careless with my diet, my parents took me to a Duryea-Gode disease ward.”

….

Zoe got home late, there had been an out of state band competition and they hadn’t gotten back to the school till about ten at night. She had gone to get milkshakes with some of her friends after so she didn’t get to the driveway of the house till about one in the morning. She had her overnight bag slung over her shoulder as she got out of her car. That’s when Connor stumbled toward her from the side of the house.  
He had a still glowing blunt in his hand. Zoe knew a lot of people who could handle a high. She had a lot of friends who smoke and they were fine, Connor could not handle a high. Connor was one of those people whose personality actually got worse with weed instead of better. Zoe braced herself.  
“Oh it looks like the princess returns, ready to take back her throne as best child in the house.” He swayed in front of her. His eyes were red, but it seemed that he had been crying along with the weed. She knew that that was never ever a good mix.  
“Fuck off Connor.” She said as she pushed passed him trying to get to the door of the house. He grabbed her wrist and she whipped around and immediately tried to get out of his grip.  
“What, you don’t think they fucking hate me? Did you forget that you’re the one they actually like?” He had gotten louder as he continued talking.He was holding her so tightly now that she stopped hearing what he was saying, the adrenaline kicking in. She pulled away from him, dropping her bag in the process. She ran for the house and wrenched the door opened. She slammed it and locked it. Connor banged on the door for a minute when he couldn’t get in.  
“Come on Zoe, let me in.” He sounded more sad now, that’s how he always sounded and Zoe was tempted to unlock the door. Instead she leaned against it, breathing hard. She pulled her knees to her chest and sat there until he walked away yelling curses at her through the door.  
She walked over to the glass door in the kitchen and with shaking hands, locked it. Next she went into Connor's room. It was still completely bare. Zoe looked behind and under the bed. She didn’t find anything. Then she looked in his bathroom, behind the mirror she found the rest of his stash. She flushed it. At least the next time he would have to buy more shit before he tried to rip her door down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know what to say in the warning so if someone thinks of a better suggestion, please feel free to tell me. I feel like a lot of people forget that Connor was abusive. That's not necessarily his fault, but he is accountable for it. That being said he was still a kid that needed a lot more help than he was given, but I might be projecting my personal problems a bit to much onto this fictional character. Also I've watched or heard about people having shitty highs like this because some people just have really not fun reactions to it, but I also think that Connor had probably been drinking as well which also led to a negative reaction.  
> Anyway hope you enjoyed it, comments are always appreciated.
> 
> The story I reference in this chapter is called The Morning, The Evening, and The Night By Octavia Butler


	4. Chapter 4

Connor had been missing for about two days when he stumbled through the door in the basement of the house. Her parents had been on a trip to the Bahamas for the week and Zoe didn’t see any reasons to bother them with the actions of their flighty son. She knew he would eventually come back, even though she couldn’t quite shake the fear that he was lying in a ditch somewhere.   
He was mess when she found him passed out on the couch in the basement. His hands were bleeding and he was covered in bruises. His hair was matted and it looked like he had been sleeping outside. Every bone in her body said to leave him there, to let him clean up his own mess for once. She went and got the first aid kit out of the bathroom cabinet anyway. She grasped it tightly in her hands for a second, staring at the unconscious figure before her. She got out some sterilized wipes from the old box and looked at what would be easiest to do without waking him. Gingerly, she picked up on of his hands and and started to clean his bloody knuckles. The moment she touched the cuts with the antiseptic, the hand jerked out of her grasp.   
She pushed herself away, in her haste knocking over the box she had placed in her lap. He looked at her with bleary eyes, blinking rapidly.  
“What are you doing.” He said with genuine confusion. She looked at him for a second trying to figure out her next move. She steeled herself, he needed help and if he started being a dick she could always leave.  
“I’m helping you, dumbass.” She crawled towards him again and not so gingerly grabbed his hand and started to clean it. He made a pained sound and she loosened her grip feeling a wave of guilt that morphed into a weird satisfaction, a taste of his own medicine was god for him.  
His knuckles were torn to shreds. She wrapped them in gauze and looked at his face. It was mostly bruising, but his one of his cheekbones had a nasty cut. She leaned forward still keeping distance between them. She reached her hand towards the side of his face and he flinched away before resigning himself to letting her help him.  
“So who beat the shit out of you this time?” She got out a small bandaid in an attempt to at least close part of the wound.   
He glared at her, “What makes you think I didn’t beat the shit out of him.”   
“Because I can see your face and you look like someone tenderized a steak.”   
“Fuck you.” He said without much energy behind it. She rolled her eyes.  
“You need to brush your hair.”   
“You need to stop telling me what to do.”   
“Connor if you don’t brush it it’ll mat and you’ll have to cut it.” He scoffed, looking away from her.  
“Can you stop doing that? This’ll go faster if you stop moving.”  
“Oh look at you, still telling me what to do.”  
“Fuck you.”  
“Fuck you.” They looked at each other and Connor started grinning, then he started laughing. Zoe sat there confused.  
“What?” She said to no response, Connor just kept laughing almost falling off the couch at one point.  
“What?” She said again, more frustrated now.  
“Just, look at how ridiculous we are,” he said through wheezing breaths, “just- what is even going on in life anymore.” She was still bewildered that he was laughing, he never laughed and this wasn’t even something funny.  
“It’s not funny Connor.” She mumbled, but he kept on laughing. She watched him, her brother who she hadn’t said more than seven words two in the past month laugh like a crazy person after being beat up while their parents drank mimosas on some beach. She started laughing to. Everything about the situation was absolutely fucking ridiculous.  
She thought about how fucked up their lives had to be to find this at all funny and it just made her laugh harder. They laughed together, it was the closest thing to bonding that had happened in a long time.   
It was silent for a moment as their laughter winded down, the only sound was the occasional short chuckle that they needed to get out of their systems. She looked up at him, his face was still covered in bruises.  
“I’ll go see if I can find a bag of peas or something in the freezer for your face.” He was silent still thinking about how down the drain their entire family was. She climbed the stairs and found a bag of frozen corn. She threw it to him and it hit him square in the face, he yelped in pain. She smirked at him as he picked it up again and put it on his sore face.   
They sat in silence again, neither of them really knowing what to say. Connor grabbed the remote, putting on some random talk show. After a few minutes she looked over at Connor who had taken the bag off his face and was poking himself and grimacing. They sat there for the rest of the night. She was glad he wasn’t dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this really quick so, I'm sorry if the quality isn't great. I was listening to fevers and mirrors by bright eyes and honestly that album should be called, a cry for help: an album. That wasn't a funny joke, but oh well. Hope you guys liked it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for abusive behavior in this one and a brief description of a panic attack or panic attack like symptoms. If there's anything else I haven't mentioned please let me know so I can add that as well.

The hallway was covered in glass. The picture of them smiling at the orchard, Zoe on Connor’s back now ripped and torn from the force of Connor’s outburst. Zoe was frozen to her spot, she watched Connor flex his now bloodied fist, watched as his chest rose and fell frantically. There was yelling all around them as her father ran toward them from the other side of the hall.   
Zoe’s legs started working when Connor turned towards her, she ran to the door of her room and slammed it closed. She took the chair from her desk, her body working on instinct, and stuck it under the door handle so it couldn’t be opened.   
The door shook as Connor tried to open it. He pounded on it over and over again, yelling her name so loud. She could hear her father yelling to, could hear him trying to pull Connor away from the door, but he wouldn’t leave. She could hear her mom screaming as well, her voice sounding scared and distant.   
Zoe looked around the room, trying to find something to protect her and her eyes settled on the closet door. She opened it and crawled inside. Crouching in the darkness, she tried to calm her breathing. The voices were still so loud and she could still hear Connor screaming her name with such rage and intensity. She covered her ears and tried to block out everything around her. Hot tears ran down her face and she took a shuddering breath that ended up making her feel like she was choking. She pressed her whole body against the wall and let out a sob. 

She didn’t know how long she had been there. The noises had gotten quieter now, she could hear stomping getting farther away and more yelling on the other side of the house. No one had come to check on her. With a shaking hand she pushed open the closet door. As she got up from the floor, she assessed the damage to her bedroom. The top hinge had come off the bedroom door, but it was still standing if only slightly leaning on the chair. Slowly she tucked the chair back in under her desk and timidly opened the door to her room. The hallway was empty, the broken glass still strewn across the green carpet. She looked at the front of the door. It had suffered some damage, the paint had come off in some places and there was streaks of red where Connor’s cut hand had come into contact with the wood. She walked down the hallway and looked at the smashed frame still sitting sadly on the wall. Her fingers ghosted over the place where their faces had once been, where they had once held such childlike glee. She dropped her hand feeling the emotional weight of the past few hours finally fully hitting her as the adrenaline left her system. She went back to her bedroom and propped the chair against it again as she went to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the sad. I listened to the smiths while I wrote this because I'm super emo apparently.  
> if you want to talk to me about this fic or anything else you can find me on tumblr at sufjeringstevens

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Thanks for reading, I'm so sorry if this was real sad. It is currently very late at night and I couldn't sleep until I wrote this. I'm very angsty late at night and I'm having a weird week. I have more ideas for this so maybe I'll write more? I feel like could expand on characters a little bit.  
> If you want to follow me on tumblr you can at sufjeringstevens.tumblr.com  
> Have a nice day!


End file.
